


December 25: Feast with the Family

by IneffableToreshi



Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [26]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: An Ineffable Holiday (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Marriage Proposal, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-04-20 07:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableToreshi/pseuds/IneffableToreshi
Summary: This is Day 25 of my Good Omens Advent Calendar for 2019, in which Crowley and Aziraphale have their human friends over to their new home for Christmas dinner, and Crowley has a very important question to ask Aziraphale.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550176
Comments: 35
Kudos: 89





	December 25: Feast with the Family

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy my Good Omens Advent Calendar! Consider it my Christmas gift to the fandom! And if you want to give me a gift in return, please leave me a comment (I live for them!) and if you're really awesome check out my other stuff by going to my blog over at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com! <3

Christmas together - for the first of what would be very, very many - was heartbreakingly wonderful. 

Crowley stirred to waking before the sun had risen, and for a few moments was lost and confused. The sheets felt different, the comforter heavier than usual, the air in the room fresh and new in a way he couldn't describe. 

Then he caught the scent of his angel - that wonderful, irresistible scent of books and leather and all manner of sugar sweets - and he realized with a giddy, foolish grin that he was  _ home _ . 

_ Their _ home - the one Aziraphale had gifted him just the night before. 

They'd spent the evening exploring the cottage, the angel showing off everything he'd done. It had an enormous kitchen stuffed with every appliance imaginable, which was wonderful since they'd learned how much fun it could be to (attempt to) cook together. The living area was more modest, but exceptionally comfortable, furnished with the well-loved sofa and armchair from the bookshop, paired with the ridiculously-large television from Crowley's flat. 

There were bookshelves and potted plants positively everywhere, creating an atmosphere that was perfectly, ineffably  _ them _ . And when Aziraphale had shown Crowley the garden out back the demon had forced himself to keep his cool. It was a gorgeous, expansive area that the angel had filled with winter blooms so it would look lovely even at this time of year. Crowley already had a hundred ideas for what he was going to do out there come Spring. He thought he might plant an apple tree, if only to see Aziraphale's reaction. 

But his favorite place in the whole house had to be the bedroom.  _ Their  _ bedroom. Aziraphale had chosen a beautiful, elaborate four-poster bed made of a dark, nearly-black wood polished to perfection. The sheets were a glorious silk, so soft and sweet they made Crowley shiver when he first touched them. The comforter was a weighted piece, and the pattern had made the demon laugh out loud. The base was black, but laid out over it, crossing this way and that, was Aziraphale's personal tartan. 

And when Crowley realized the significance of being allowed to wrap himself in Aziraphale's tartan, well...if he teared up a little that was between him and his angel. 

They christened the bed that night, watched by a stone eagle in one corner of the room, and an angel-and-demon pair of 'wrestlers' in the opposite corner. 

Some hours later, Crowley lay in that bed, under that tartan comforter, smiling at the sleeping form of his angel -  _ his  _ angel. Aziraphale so rarely slept, but the events of the previous night had thoroughly knocked him out and Crowley was truly enjoying this treat of getting to watch him sleep. His white curls were dishevelled, his pink lips parted just so as he breathed deep and slow. 

For a while the demon simply watched the gentle rise and fall of the angel's chest, but after some time he could resist no longer. He slithered forward and tenderly pressed his lips to Aziraphale's, soft and sweet. When he pulled away, half-lidded blue eyes were looking back at him, full to the brim with love. 

"Good morning, dearest," the angel whispered.

"Happy Christmas, angel," the demon replied with a grin. 

They stayed in bed for some time after that, rather intent on enjoying it as much as possible before leaving it for even a moment. But somehow, eventually, they managed to drag themselves from each other's arms long enough to dress in soft, warm pajamas (Crowley refused to wear the top on principle, and Aziraphale only complained for a moment to keep up appearances) and head out to the tree. 

It was everything Crowley had imagined it would be. The presents themselves hardly mattered because the unwrapping bit was too much fun to be allowed. They took turns opening gifts from each other and their human friends, their faces alight with smiles the entire time. Aziraphale got lots of books, of course, several of them first editions he'd been unable to track down himself. One in particular was a very old, very delicate copy of the Karma Sutra that made the angel flush bright red and the demon wiggle his eyebrows suggestively before laughing and pulling them together for a kiss. Crowley got beautiful new tools to use in his -  _ his!  _ \- garden and a number of albums he didn't have, some of them first-printings that he wasn't certain he could stand to actually play. 

There were bottles of wine and boxes of chocolates, bags of extremely-expensive coffee beans and tins of extraordinarily rich whiskey candies. 

Anathema and Newt gifted them a flowering pot of lilac and a book on the language of flowers. Miss Tracy and Shadwell (although they doubted Shadwell even had any knowledge of the gift) gifted them a box of, er...recreational devices, that made  _ Crowley  _ flush bright red, and he quickly snapped his fingers to banish them (to a discreet trunk in their bedroom closet). 

They drank and they indulged in sweets and candies. They lit a lovely fire in the hearth and let the television play all manner of Christmas specials in the background. They had a blast together in the kitchen, working out exactly how to go about stuffing a turkey, and laughing raucously at the memory of the first human who had attempted such a ridiculous concept. 

It was when Aziraphale was basting the turkey for what would be the final time that evening that Crowley offhandedly asked if he was planning to feed an army with the monster of a bird he'd acquired. 

Aziraphale smiled then, a little nervously, but filled with care and love. "I have a bit of a surprise for you," he explained. "We're going to have visitors for dinner."

Crowley blinked. "Visitors?" he repeated. He couldn't decide whether to be intrigued or miffed. It had been such a wonderful holiday with his angel so far, after all, and he wasn't certain he was willing to share. 

But Aziraphale stuck the turkey back in the oven and approached to wrap his arms around the demon's shoulders. "You told me recently," he said, slow and soft, "that there were humans in the past you were fond of, but you couldn't consider them family since they couldn't know the real you."

Crowley's eyes widened, the amber in them almost devouring all of the white. He could see where this was going, but he needed the angel to finish saying it out loud. 

"Well, there are humans now, whom I know you are quite fond of, and they  _ do  _ know the real you...and, well, when I asked them if they would like to join us for a big family dinner…"

Aziraphale didn't get to finish, and Crowley didn't get to respond, because just then there was a knock at the front door and the demon practically ran to open it. 

They were all there, cheering in greeting, marveling at the cottage, shoving containers of food and sweets and bottles of wine at their hosts. Adam and his wonderful friends. Anathema and Newt. Tracy and (a presumably grumpy) Shadwell. And bringing up the rear, looking equal parts shy and haughty, was Warlock, gripping for all his life to a small wrapped package with "Nanny & Brother Francis" written on the tag. 

It was the noisiest dinner Crowley had ever experienced, and it was the most amazing. 

An enormous table that Aziraphale had miracled for the occasion was covered - every inch of it - in dishes and food. Turkey and stuffing, potatoes and yams, carrots and turnip and pickled beets. Boats of gravy, mounds of pudding, and more desserts than some of the children had ever seen. 

They talked and laughed and stuffed themselves to bursting. Crowley snuck the children small glasses of champagne, and Aziraphale miracled the alcohol content out of it. 

Anathema told Tracy all about the prophecies she'd spent her life following while Shadwell quizzed Newt to make sure he wasn't letting his witchhunter knowledge go to pot. The Them welcomed Warlock readily into their fold, and for the first time in years he was genuinely pleasant, listening to their stories of the Apocalypse with wide eyes and tossing in a few laughs about the fragrant demon who had mistaken him for the antichrist. 

An angel and a demon watched it all with warm hearts and wide smiles, joining in the conversations when they were able, and watching quietly when talk turned to topics with which they were unfamiliar. 

It was during one of these lulls when Crowley swallowed hard, turned to his angel with what he hoped was a genuine-looking smile, and asked if they could speak in private for a moment. 

"Of course, darling," Aziraphale replied with a bright smile. 

The demon took the angel's hand, fingers woven together, and pulled him outside. They walked across the snow-covered garden to the small hothouse at the edge of the property where Aziraphale had miracled the plants from Crowley's flat to allow the demon to decide where he wanted to put them. 

Once inside, Crowley faced Aziraphale, met the angel's beatific smile and gorgeous blue eyes, and immediately lost his nerve. 

"You wanted to speak to me about something, dearest?" Aziraphale prompted, face soft and happy. 

Crowley gulped, fidgeted, worried at his lower lip. "Yes, well, um-" He gulped again and reached up to pull at his collar, which seemed suddenly far too tight. "I have, um… I've got one more present, and, um-" 

Satan, was it supposed to be  _ this  _ hot in here?

Aziraphale took a step forward. He reached out to run a hand down along the buttons of Crowley's waistcoat. "My love," he said, his tone tender and warm, "if it makes it any easier for you…" He bit his lip and failed to keep a grin from his face. "...I'm going to say yes."

Crowley's eyes blew wide. "H-how did-?" he stammered, face hot and expression shocked.

Aziraphale couldn't stop the little laugh that escaped him as he reached up to take the demon's lapels in both hands. "Darling," he chuckled, "you've been fussing with something in your pocket for two hours now, and there's only so many things you can squeeze into trousers that tight."

Crowley's entire body felt like it was on fire. "Oh," was all he seemed able to come up with. 

Aziraphale gave a little tug on the demon, just enough to pull him into a quick peck on the cheek. "Go ahead, my love," he urged, eyes bright with love and excitement. "I'm waiting."

Crowley closed his eyes. He took a long, deep breath, and when he opened them again they were blown wide, molten pools of amber that made his angel melt further into him. 

Long, skinny fingers extracted themselves from a too-tight pocket, clenching something small and shiny. 

"Aziraphale," the demon swallowed hard, unnecessary heart hammering madly in his chest. "I...I know this is a ridiculously human thing, but, I mean, we're both more like the humans than we've ever been like our former sides, so I thought-" His voice caught in his throat. He'd had a whole romantic speech prepared, but now that they were here, in this moment together, he couldn't seem to remember a single word of it. 

Impossibly beautiful blue eyes stared up at him, expectant and exilherating. 

"S-shit, angel," Crowley sighed, completely unable to keep the fond smile from his face. He thrust the small, shiny object up between their bodies and let his eyes convey what his forgotten speech would have done so much less perfectly. "Marry me?"

He barely had the words out before Aziraphale pulled him into a deep, devoted, passionate kiss that would have set a mere mortal aflame. When he pulled away it drew a gasp of air from the demon that sounded an awful lot like, "Is that a yes?"

"Of course, my love, my everything," the angel gushed, eyes glossy but shining to match his smile. "Of course I will!"

Crowley felt as though all the air had gone out of his lungs and then returned all in one violent punch to the chest. "Oh thank Someone," he gasped, his face breaking out into pure happiness. "I was worried you'd kick me out of that amazing bed if you said no."

Aziraphale laughed - a big, belly laugh that made his eyes sparkle - and pulled Crowley in for another possessive kiss that was ended only when Crowley pulled away with a gorgeous grin. 

"Don't you want to see your ring, angel?" he chuckled. "I had it made special and everything." His smile became something soft, perhaps even a little embarrassed. "I hope you like it… I thought about what you said about diamonds being boring and.." 

The demon trailed off because soft fingers had reached up to hover around the hand that held the ring. Aziraphale's eyes had gone wide with...Crowley wasn't sure what, but he  _ hoped _ it was the happy kind of surprise. 

The ring was made of obsidian, so pure and polished that you could almost see your reflection in it. The band wound in three spiraling loops, the body of a serpent that would encircle the finger thrice. The tail-end loop twisted along the outer edge, just enough to show a trail of tiny red rubies for the snake's underbelly. The head slithered up onto the top of the coils, tiny ambers winking up for its eyes. Finally, that head was protectively nestled around a moderately-sized single-cut blue topaz precisely the color of Aziraphale's eyes. 

The angel stared at it, fingers hovering but never touching, long enough that it began to make Crowley nervous. 

"I-if you don't like it, I-I can take it back and-"

Before the demon could complete his sentence Aziraphale's hands had clasped obsessively around his own. "Don't you dare!" the angel exclaimed, and he looked up so that Crowley could see the tears in his eyes. Soft hands gripped the demon's tight. "It's the most beautiful ring I've ever seen," Aziraphale whispered through trembling lips. "Oh Crowley...I absolutely love it." 

Crowley allowed himself to let out a huge breath of air he didn't recall taking. Without saying anything further, he extracted his hand from the angel's, pinched the serpent ring around its edges, and tenderly slid it onto Aziraphale's ring finger. It was a perfect fit. Just like the angel who wore it and the demon who had bestowed it. 

Aziraphale gazed at the ring on his hand, transfixed for a number of heartbeats, until he finally lifted his eyes back up to Crowley's overjoyed smile. The angel leaned up, pulling the demon down at the same time, to draw their lips together in a slow, languid kiss full of hope and love and excitement for the future. 

"Oh my darling," Aziraphale uttered when they eventually pulled far enough away for him to speak, "Later tonight I an going to make  _ such  _ a wonderful mess of you…"

Crowley's heart skipped a beat and another body part stirred with interest. "Why not right now, angel?" he purred, pulling their bodies close. 

Aziraphale rubbed their noses together lightly and smirked. "Because I rather think it would be inappropriate given present, er...company."

Crowley blinked, followed the flick of Aziraphale's head with his eyes, and turned ten entirely brand new shades of red as he saw that their human friends were standing outside the greenhouse, waving and grinning like fools who had easily guessed at what had just transpired. 

"Uh, yeah, maybe not," the demon admitted with a cough. 

"Shall we let them in and tell them the exciting news?"

"Judging by the way they're all looking at us I think they've figured it out already, angel."

Aziraphale chuckled and squeezed his demon, a quiet promise to never, ever let him go. 

"Merry Christmas, my love

"Merry Christmas, my perfect angel…"

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it through this entire advent of stories, thank you so much! I love you all and I genuinely hope that you've enjoyed the shorts! If I manage to find the time I'd like to add a bonus New Years Eve fic as well. ^_^ Keep your fingers crossed!
> 
> Happy Holidays and wonderful wishes for a new year to you all! <3


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